The other day some guests insisted I tag along for a day of sightseeing and eating out. We went to a mall and after about an hour of walking non-stop, I decided to take a short chai (tea) break in the sprawling food court. The guests left behind their shopping bags in my custody and went ahead with their last round of shopping.

I sat there dunking my favourite biscuits in a cup of tea and indulged in my favourite pastime: people watching.

It has always been a great de-stressing activity for me to look at people in places buzzing with action. It somehow makes my day looking at small families relaxing. I often study a person’s character by reading their physical features. I am no judge but like I said earlier, I like to watch people. Some couples looked sullen and quiet while eating; some others, cheerful.

I looked around and saw some young college-going boys eating in a corner. They seemed to have bunked their classes, I said to myself. A few tables away was a ‘ladies only’ group who, I presumed, were almost winding up a kitty party.

All this while, a young man, employed as a cleaner by the mall authorities, cleaned the floor and frequently, the tables. It was at this moment that I sensed that the boy lacked interest in his job. Yet, he carried on. I tried to avoid staring at him, for I did not want him to know that he was being watched.

He cleaned the kitty party tables where the ‘diet-conscious’ ladies had left behind a lot of food. He paused for a few seconds as if he despised the sheer wastage of food left untouched. He looked at the ladies again evidently to make sure that they were not taking any of it back home.

Boisterous mess

The boy had another look at the food and I was almost tempted to tell him to keep the many untouched sandwiches and burgers for himself. But I did not. I waited to see what he would do next. He took a deep breath and started disposing off the food. Clearly, his self-respect had taken over his senses and he had decided to let his hard-earned salary take care of his two square meals.

But what irritated me was the manner in which the ladies had dirtied the tables and chairs. If this party was at the house of any one of them, I am sure the scene would have been completely different. Even after a boisterous party, tables would have looked much cleaner.

As I sipped my tea, I noticed that this was a common sight and others too had left behind heaps of food and dirty tables behind. The mindset of these visitors was evident. If you eat in a restaurant (or food court), you have the right to leave the place unclean. The feeling at the back of the mind is, “After all, I have paid for everything. It is their job”.

By then I had finished tea and I got up to dispose off my plastic cup, plates, cutlery and the accompanying tray and well, I told myself, there was no harm in doing so.

The boy was a little zapped when I signalled to him. He came slowly towards me. I tipped him with a Rupee 100 (Dh6) note and instantly left the place. The boy looked terribly confused and alternated between looking at the currency note and me as I walked away. He was unable to believe that someone could actually tip him for no ‘rhyme or reason’.

But there was a valid reason. I could sense that the ill-fed lean and thin boy might have been hungry but he dare not have taken away even a tiny piece of the delectable food. That was against the rules, which stipulated that no leftovers, including untouched food items, should be allowed to pass through a needy soul’s gullet.

Instead, it must be thrown into the garbage. Violation could have cost the cleaner his job and consequentially the tiny salary he earned through it.

Lalit Raizada is a journalist based in India.